


Bad Things Occur

by Spingtail



Series: AtBB Canon [6]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Bad Things Happen Bingo, Dissociation, Panic Attacks, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), will add tags with updates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:46:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21910177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spingtail/pseuds/Spingtail
Summary: A place to put my written stuff for the Bad Things Happen Bingo, I'll add more tags to it with the more requests I do
Series: AtBB Canon [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1312490
Comments: 8
Kudos: 33





	1. Real

**Author's Note:**

> Quick note since people have been confused about this before: Russ is my version of Undertale Papyrus, /not/ Underswap!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dissociation with Edge

Edge leaned against the wall, only vaguely aware that he was currently sitting on the floor as he stared at the gloved hands in front of his face.

Those… weren’t his hands. Were they? No, they couldn’t be; his hands were real, right? These weren’t real, but perhaps he wasn’t either. He certainly didn’t  _ feel  _ real.

Shaking his head in a futile attempt to return to reality, he looked around the room to find it blurring around the edges. Maybe reality wasn’t so real, either. 

There was something in front of him. It was making noises he couldn’t understand. He watched the hands that weren’t his move to pick at the scarf around a neck that didn’t belong to him. They moved awkwardly, like whoever was controlling them didn’t know how to use them yet. 

He didn’t hear the sharp yelp that escaped his jaws when something touched one of those hands.

“..ey, Edge? Are you alright?” A voice faded in, only a little bit clearer than anything else. He couldn’t make out its tone, but he still tried to focus on it as well as he could. “Sorry for startling you, but you weren’t responding to anything else…”

It took him a minute of staring and listening to figure out who was sitting in front of him, the voice beginning to ramble for as long as he didn’t say anything. 

“Come on, you can hear me, right?” Russ asked, looking right back at Edge with worry in his eyes. He was loosely holding Edge’s wrist. Slowly,  _ very  _ slowly, Edge nodded. “Hey, there you are! I was starting to get worried.”

He nodded again, not finding the energy to figure out how to talk again as he focused on Russ’s voice and the light pressure of the hand on his wrist. He looked around the room once more, noting how it looked far less fake than it had before.

That was a good sign.


	2. Perfect Health

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hiding an illness" with Russ

As Russ forced his eye sockets open, he could already tell that this day was going to _suck._

_Not only_ did he get hit with a far weirder nightmare than usual, but when he woke, he felt like someone had smashed a bat against his head. The dizziness every time he moved didn’t help, either.

Bringing up a hand to rub at his forehead, he was reminded of the two bodies laying against him. Edge and Stretch were fast asleep, snoring softly.

The sight shouldn’t have put him on edge.

Stretch was supposed to keep watch that night. He was new, so Russ certainly wasn’t about to lecture him for not being used to staying awake for longer than a day, _especially_ after the day they'd had before then, but it was still a miracle that nothing had already happened while they were all asleep. Being out in the cold all day was no fun, and the lack of shelter only added to the bitter awfulness that came with it.

Luckily, none of them seemed to get sick before they managed to find the house of this world’s skeleton brothers.

Except for…

Russ’s face scrunched up as he held in a sneeze, refusing to wake the other two up.

No. _No,_ that was _not_ allowed. He was in _perfect_ health, thank you very much. _Sneezes_ didn’t always mean sickness.

He grabbed his head as the ache got worse for a moment, before it subsided.

 _That_ didn’t mean he was sick, either.

And if he could feel his eye sockets watering due to the coughs he was definitely _not_ holding in, then so what? He probably just caught something in his throat.

Eventually, though, he couldn’t suppress it any longer. He jumped up from the couch, moving as carefully yet quickly as possibly so as to not wake the other two skeletons, and ran to the kitchen. He searched through all the cupboards for some kind of cup before filling one to the brim with tap water.

The second he opened his mouth to drink it, though, the coughs forced their way out, and he set the glass down onto the counter as he covered his mouth.

Finally, the coughing fit ended, and he chugged the first glass and a few more. 

_That_ certainly didn’t do much to help his headache.

It was only when he leaned on the counter with his eyes shut tight that he heard someone enter the kitchen behind him.

“...Russ?” Edge asked as he turned quickly to face him. He looked like he was still half asleep. “What’s going on? Are you-”

“It’s fine!” Russ interrupted, quickly realizing that his dizziness did _not_ agree with quick movements as he grabbed the counter behind him with an iron grip. “I was just a little thirsty!”

“...So you _weren’t_ the person I heard coughing his rib cage out?” Edge questioned, squinting his eyes with a frown. 

“Nope!” Russ answered, giving his brightest grin as he pretended to be unaware of whatever the other might have heard.

“Alright, sure,” Edge sighed, clearly giving in to his tiredness as he let out a large yawn. “Just tell whoever _is_ coughing to lay the fuck back down and _rest,_ okay?”

“Got it!” He responded cheerily, giving a shaky thumbs up. He hoped it was just the normal amount of shakiness, and that the seemingly increased amount of trembling was just his imagination.

The second Edge walked off to go lay back down, Russ was caught off guard by a large sneeze. 

Seconds later, Edge was back, and promptly dragged him back to the couch by his arm.


	3. Garbage Whiskey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Drowning their sorrows" with Russ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> possible TWs: alcohol dependency (but not full-on alcoholism) and mentioned bad eating habits
> 
> also some context: this is before Russ met Edge or Stretch. There's a reason he doesn't talk about this time of his life much, lol

As disgusting as dumpster diving so often was, it always had its benefits.

Benefits, as in, Russ’s ability to get two full bottles of whiskey for the low, low price of getting his gloves dirty _._

Of course, he was hesitant upon risking a sip, but he cheered when he found that they had both been left unopened. Why anyone would leave perfectly good alcohol in the dumpster, he had no clue.

...Then again, most people probably didn’t dig through trash for alcohol. Oh well, their loss.

The second he got to a safer place (read: the closest, emptiest alleyway he could find), he could feel his excitement rise almost as fast as his impulse control plummeted, and he unscrewed the cap of the first bottle as fast as he could. 

He took a swig, and cringed. It _certainly_ wasn’t the expensive stuff, but it would do. It _was_ free, after all.

Besides, he hadn’t eaten much today, so it wouldn’t be too long before he stopped noticing the taste at all.

* * *

Dammit, dammit, this was a bad idea, _dammit._

Every time he got drunk, he couldn’t _not_ think about his family back home, or Honey, or how his memory got worse every time he did this, and if he kept it up he might not even remember his own name, which, in hindsight, was a bit more of a blessing than a curse, but that was besides the point, and the point was that he was running from human cops and dragging his ‘cool dude’ reputation through the mud while doing so.

Turns out, alleyways _weren’t_ actually all that secluded, at least not when some totally different non-skeleton person is crying up a storm in one of them without realizing that everyone could hear ~~him~~ _them_ this late at night.

He didn’t even remember when the humans had shown up, all he knew was that he was running and he probably shouldn’t stop.

He skidded to a stop (read: stumbled over his own feet and slid on his elbows until he crashed into a trash can) at the sight of a large, chain-link fence. There was a sign on it, but he didn’t give it a second glance before he started to climb.

Halfway up, he fell to the ground, and the fence was gone.

Sitting up, he looked around to see that he had landed somewhere in Waterfall.

Well, that was _one_ way to escape.

With a quick shake of his head, he leaned up against one of the rocky walls of the cavern and pulled the second bottle of gross, cheap whiskey out of his inventory.

Sure, he was already drunk, which was great, but he was still capable of thinking, which wasn’t so great.

As he unscrewed the bottle, he was glad that he could fix that.


	4. Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Panic attack with Edge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mentions/implications of abuse, minor self harm

Edge couldn’t move. 

Even when Stretch gently nudged his arm to get a better look at the mess on the floor in front of him, he felt like he had been frozen in place.

The plate had just slipped out of his hand, he hadn’t meant to drop it, he hadn’t meant to ruin something so fragile, he’d just wanted to make some food, he didn’t mean to--

“Hey, dude, are you okay?” Stretch’s concerned voice interrupted his thoughts, standing in front of him now. “You’re shakin’ pretty bad.”

Edge blinked, quickly crossing his arms and puffing out his chest.

“Fine! I’m, um, f-fine,” he replied, cringing inwardly. His eyes found the broken porcelain again and somewhere, in the back of his mind, he heard his brother’s voice. “I just n-need to clean this up.”

“Oookay,” Stretch said, squinting his eyes a bit. “I’ll see if I can find a broom. You coming?”

“No.”

He was still looking at him weird while he left the room, but Edge knew he must’ve done well enough if he didn’t say anything else.

His claws dug into his arms as he stared down at the mess he made.

He told himself to stay standing, to wait until Stretch got back with the broom, but still his body moved on its own, kneeling down and picking up a few of the shards to inspect then.

He was wearing gloves, but it was like he could still feel the smooth texture of the porcelain, the sharp edges against his palm, and the sound of it shattering echoed through his skull like thunder. 

A pale red teardrop fell onto one of the bigger shards, and he dropped them all, jumping back far at the loud sound of each of them hitting the ground at once. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but dig his claws into his arms and squeeze his eyes shut while his brother’s words and shattered glass pounded through his head. He didn’t mean to, he never meant to,  _ he didn’t mean to-- _

Eyes snapping open, he whipped his head around fast enough to make his neck hurt as a hand touched his shoulder. After a moment of staring, he recognized Russ kneeling down in front of him, with Stretch at his side. They both looked worried. 

“It’s okay, it’s just us, I promise,” Russ assured him gently. “Your brother’s not here, remember? You’re safe.”

Edge’s breathing began to slow, just a little bit, and when he looked back towards his mess, it was gone, a broom laying down in its place. When he looked back towards Russ, the other had his arms spread out with a small, warm smile on his face. Edge took the hint and scooted over, collapsing into his arms.

He was safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also at this point in time stretch does not know abt edge's brother yet pls don't be mad with him :(


End file.
